Endgame (Book 1)

by W. A. R.

  She closed her eyes tightly. Oh, how her friend must feel, but since that morning when both he and Miles decided to stay she had hardly spoken to him or anyone for that matter. She was in her own personal world, coming to grips with everything that had happened. She felt remorse and regret to its fullest extent and it was becoming increasingly difficult to rid herself of the pain that the guilt brought with it. She needed to speak to George, to atone for her misgivings, for her bailing on him and leaving him to his death. She closed her eyes tightly; if she thought it was difficult dealing with his loss before, it was even harder after knowing what he had endured to survive. While she slept for the better part of an entire day, he stay locked in a trunk, despondent and horrified after hearing his wife torn apart…the same wife that killed his son. She shook her head, wishing the tears away. She wished she knew how to make things easier…she wished the cruel world they survived in simply wasn’t…didn’t exist…then none of that would have happened.

  “Are…are you okay?” the timbre of his voice sent shivers up her spine and yet still surprised her, forcing her eyes to snap open and for her to stand too quickly. Her tender and sore head began to spin and her vision darkened slightly. She reached out for the air to balance herself as she began to sway on her feet. A pair of strong hands reached forward and steadied her and she reached up and rubbed her eyes, cursing herself. “I take it that knot on your head is still giving you problems?” he asked lightly and Amber fought off the wave of nausea that hit her, inhaling deeply through her nose. She didn’t answer for a moment, attempting to not only regain her stability but her emotional armor. Finally, she removed her hand and glanced up to see Miles’s concerned brown eyes looking back at her. His hands loosened on her shoulders, but only slightly.

  “I’m fine.” She told him softly, and he removed his hands from her, allowing her to turn from him and reach for the bucket on the ground at her feet. She felt tenser than she had before and she knew that the cause was his sudden appearance. “Is there something you needed?” she asked, leaning forward to fill the bucket with water. When he didn’t answer she became even tenser. She cursed her body’s reaction to the man. He had disappeared whenever the outbreak started…he had simply saved her life and then vanished. He could have gone with them; they would have helped him find and save whom it was he went to search for. She knew all too well who he went after and she hated that he went alone. He left. Amber had foolishly waited for them, Miles and his counterpart, to come back, especially during the harder times, but they never did. He had always been there for her before…and she hated herself for expecting him to be there every time. After he had left, and long after she had waited and waited, she had finally assumed that he had died and there was a ghost of regret that she carried with her as a constant companion because of it. What did she regret? Everything concerning that man; their entire history and how it had panned out. And now he stood behind her, probably wondering why she was so angry to begin with, why she was different; and she was, she was different, but so was he. Still, if they were going to be working together and living together from that point on, she knew they would have to work past whatever was between them, and they would have to do it quickly.

  She sighed. There was still no answer from the man behind her. She stood and turned slowly, bucket in hand. “Miles?” she asked, turning her eyes to him. He rubbed the back of his neck and she lifted a brow at him. He still looked the same, with the exception of the hard glint in his eyes and she couldn’t help but smile at that fact alone. She decided to give him a break. “Is this about this morning?” she asked, knowing full well it was.

  He glanced up at her quickly, and she felt rooted to the spot, locked under his gaze. “Yes, it is. I wanted to apologize for how I acted.” He told her, lowering his arm and shoving his hand into the pocket of his jeans. She resisted the urge to simply move far away from him and sighed. He opened his mouth to speak again, and she had known that he had more to say but she was a big ball of stress…she needed her peace. And so, she cut him off before he could say anything further.

  “Apology accepted.” She told him stepping to the side in a vain attempt to get past him. He stepped in front of her, causing her to stop midstep. She felt her muscles tighten in response to his close proximity and took a step back from him. This didn’t escape his notice however, and she knew immediately that he misunderstood her action. For a brief moment she was grateful for that misunderstanding. Then again, she figured he would be utterly surprised if he knew exactly what he did to her.

  “I think we need to talk.” He told her firmly, leaving no room for argument. She sighed and eased the bucket down to the ground before lowering her eyes to her hands, dusting her hands together. She wanted to talk to him and yet she didn’t. She was tired of waiting for him to say something, tired of waiting for him to appear, to help ease the pain this new world had to offer, and frankly…she was simply tired of everything.

  “Talk. Say what you feel you need to say, but you can do so as we walk. We don’t have time for pleasantries.” She told him mildly before glancing over his shoulder at the house. Brian was carrying a bag and…an ax it seemed…to the red Dodge. She turned back to Miles, who still hadn’t move from her way. “Well?” she prodded him. He narrowed his eyes at her and she stood her ground. She knew what was coming next.

  “You’re pissed at me…” he rumbled and Amber rolled her eyes, leaning down and reaching for the handle of the bucket. Her heart pounded in her chest and she realized with a sudden ferocity she didn’t want to discuss their problems, or anything for that matter, with him. She would end up crumbling as she always had done with him. He had always had a way to make her cave, even if he never knew it.

  “We don’t have time to talk about this, Miles.” She glanced towards the woods, suddenly feeling anxious and tired. “Biters are out and about, it will be dark soon and Brian and George need help loading things. I have to clean the blood from my hair and…What are you doing?” she asked exasperated as he moved quickly, taking the bucket from her hand and grabbing her wrist. She attempted to jerk from him as he pulled her but it was futile.

  “I’ve already spoken to Brian and he is fine. There aren’t any Biters out here and I’m going to help you while we talk because one way or another before we get back to your family, we need to be on the same page.” He told her. They reached a tree that lay stretched across the ground, fallen from some natural occurrence, whether it be weather or time.

  “Miles, stop. This is ridiculous! Let me go!” She protested before he released her. Her skin burned from where he had touched her and she reflexively brought her hand to her chest, rubbing it gently. His eyes traveled up her arm to her chest where she cradled her wrist and instantly she thrust her arms to the side. He studied her for a long moment before he set the bucket beside the tree and turned to her. She glared at him. He glared at her. She crossed her arms. “Let me go back to the house….just…” she sighed. “…leave me alone.” Her words were but a whisper, a plea, and still she knew he wasn’t going to let her. The determination was shining in his eyes. She tried to step around him and he yet again blocked her path. She growled low in her throat and regretted her next decision as soon as she had made it. She would have to hurt him to make him leave. Did she really want him to leave that badly? Part of her said no, that he was right and that they did indeed need to talk, to bring their hostilities to the surface…and yet, the woman in her demanded otherwise. “I don’t need your help.” She bit out and even she was stunned at the bitterness that seeped into her words. They had hit home for her and summed up every bit of animosity she held towards the man before her. She didn’t need him, at least not anymore. She had dealt with far too much pain for anyone to even think such. He sighed, and lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Please, just let me help you so we can talk and get past whatever this is. Besides, you almost fell just a moment ago and you shouldn’t be doi
ng this yourself. Just…quit being so stubborn and let me help.” He told her gently, and she felt her heart tear at his words and at the easiness with which he said them, as if he expected her biting words. She stared at him for a moment longer before glancing down at the long men’s t-shirt she wore while waiting for her other clothes to dry. Quietly she nodded and lowered herself to the tree. She was woman enough to admit defeat, she thought as her bottom met the tree and she wrung her fingers together in her lap. He sighed in what she figured was relief at her willingness to cooperate and reached for the bucket. “Lower your head.” He ordered her gently and she sighed, looking up at him.

  “You’re serious? Miles…” she began but he cut her off, kneeling down to her level. His brown eyes held her hostage and she immediately clamped her mouth shut. The gold flecks scattered among the deep brown and the gold ring around his iris shone brightly in against the sun. She was hypnotized.

  “Stop arguing.” He told her firmly before rising back to his feet. He stepped forward, his deft fingers tilting her head down. His fingertips skimmed her sensitive scalp as he turned her hair over, examining the wound. She winced in response to his touch while her heart raced all the same. “I’m sorry…for how I acted earlier when you…well, when you apologized. I was just…surprised, is all. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He told her and she felt the sting of tears at the certainty of his words. He pulled whatever flakes of blood he could from her dirty blonde hair.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” She teased him. “You didn’t upset me.” She lied and he paused his motions for just a split second, but it hadn’t escaped her notice. His thumb pressed gently against her wound and she grimaced.

  “I assumed we weren’t going to be lying during this discussion, but I guess I was wrong.” He said, sarcasm lacing every syllable. She groaned. This conversation was going to be harder than she had ever anticipated.

  “What are the odds that Brian would find you in Takilma?” she asked, trying to make light of their conversation. “It is entirely too ‘coincidental’.” She told him, placing a mocking emphasis on the last word and letting him know that coincidences simply didn’t exist, not in her mind.

  He hesitated for only a moment before speaking. “Would you like to hear something even more ‘coincidental’?” he asked, playing into her little game. She glanced sideways up at him and smirked.

  “Sure.” She replied and he turned his guarded eyes down to meet hers.

  “I was preparing to come find you two when they found me. Thurston was my next destination.” He told her and she turned from him. Memories of his last words to her, of him leaving, disappearing into a death-filled night flashed through her and she rode the wave of hurt as it crashed over her. ‘You are one hell of a strong woman. Then again, that has always been true, huh? Be sure to stay that way.’ She inhaled sharply at the surrealism of the situation, firmly catching his attention. He furrowed his brow at her in curiosity.

  “I don’t believe in coincidences.” She stated firmly and he scoffed at her in disbelief.

  “Then what do you believe in?” he asked her and she grinned at him wistfully. He stopped removing dried crimson flakes from her hair and stared at her, returning her grin. His eyes were alight with what seemed like fascination and she felt a painful stirring in her chest.

  “Fate.”

  He lifted a brow at her in disbelief. “Destiny?” he asked incredulously and she turned to look at the pond, watching as a small frog jumped into the water from the land. The tiny plop that accompanied his entry into the water was drowned out by the hunger filled moans of Biters along the fence.

  She folded her fingers together in her lap, resting her elbows on her thighs. “Whatever you want to call it.” She told him and she heard him chuckle. She turned and squinted up at him, feeling as if she should put him in his place. “Make light of it all you want, but the cold hard truth is that we continue meeting throughout our lives.”

  His smile dropped as he studied her. She grinned and he placed his hands firmly on his hips. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, clearly not denying her statement and she shrugged, unsure of how to phrase an answer.

  “It means…that one way or another we were always…we were always meant to be a part of one another’s lives. We are connected somehow…and, well…we were always supposed to end up here…talking about this very thing.” She stammered, refusing to look at him as he watched her. She wished she knew what he was thinking then. Quickly, however, he snapped out of it and reached down for the bucket. Amber separated her hands and rubbed her palms across her denim clad knees.

  “What were you doing whenever I walked up a minute ago?” he asked and Amber sighed. She could be honest about that at least, and on the bright side at least he was no longer dwelling on what she had said. Yes it was what she believed, but under his scrutinizing stare she felt as if she needed to explain herself in depth, and that would mean revealing her innermost thoughts, which she refused to do.

  She winced as he unintentionally pulled at some of her hair, bucket in his other hand. “I was thinking…about everything. I was thinking about George and Regina…their screams…the fear…” she paused, swallowing back the emotion that threatened to escape. “I was trying to come to terms with the regret I feel about what happened…regret that reaches all the way back to the outbreak, and in some special cases, before the outbreak.” She paused, a blush tainting her cheeks, and then the guilt was there again. “I have had to do things I never thought I would have to do…I have said goodbye to more people than I ever intended to.” He hesitated for a moment; his fingers no longer in her hair when suddenly a slow rush of warm water hit her scalp. She hissed against the stinging pain and quickly his fingers were right back on the wound, gently scrubbing at the blood. “I have taken life without ever being able to give it. I have given mercy but that mercy came with the mask of death.”

  “You saved George. You offered him life and mercy.” He informed her, reminded her and suddenly she felt remorseful.

  “Don’t…don’t offer me pity.” She said softly, refusing to take notice of the disappointment in his eyes. “After everything I have done…I am just so….desolate and hurt.” She felt abandoned.

  He sighed and waited a beat before replying. “I understand. I’m sorry things have been rough.” He said softly and she resisted the urge to jerk from him. Though he meant well, his words smacked her, hurting her and again she was drawn back to her reasoning for being angry with him.

  “You have no idea what I have been through, what I have had to do, so don’t act as if you do.” She snapped and he didn’t waver, didn’t seem fazed. Instead, he continued scrubbing, exhaling slowly and Amber felt his weariness.

  “Why are you so angry with me?” he asked, seemingly tired, as he lifted the bucket and poured water yet again over her hair. She glanced up to see the water trailing from her hair to the ground below tainted red. “I would like to understand what I have done.”

  And he was right. He had no clue why she would be upset and she sighed, deciding there was never really any other choice. “I thought you were dead.” She grumbled and he immediately stopped, her hair freed of most of the blood. She reached up twisted her hair, wringing out what was left of the water before easing it back onto her shoulders. Only then did she steal a glance at him. His eyes were confused and pained as he leaned against the fallen tree, the empty bucket at his feet. She sighed and stood, scanning the length of the tree before climbing to stand on it. She then began walking carefully along the length of it. His eyes followed her and she understood he was waiting on her to continue speaking, explaining. She refused to look at him and instead followed her footsteps along the tree. “You just…left…” she trailed off.

  He cleared his throat. “Amber…” he began and she pulled her arms up to balance herself. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she pushed them away, pausing for a moment and glancing around them at the open field and the wood line, searching for any B
iters within proximity. She turned back to her balancing act after only seeing three hung up on the fence surrounding the property. She needed to keep her mind busy.

  “Talk to me. Tell me where you went.” she nearly pleaded, and she could feel the tension grow taut. She slowly turned to meet his gaze. “I want to understand…Where did you go?” The words held so much emotion that it was a great relief to simply let the question leave her lips. It had the opposite effect on him. Instead of relief, it appeared as if his shoulders slumped even more so with the weight that they carried. He crossed his arms across his chest and turned from her.

  He swallowed thickly and shook his head, officially saddened by thoughts that haunted him. “Why does that even matter, Amber?” he asked and she jerked her head to him, surprised and even offended that he would ask that. She knew the answer to her own question; she knew where he had gone and who he had gone after. She really, truthfully just wanted him to talk, needed him by her side.